


Attraxion

by Tierfal



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-20
Updated: 2010-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-07 10:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tierfal/pseuds/Tierfal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh, dear.  Prompt: "92. Merlin accidentally enchants Arthur so that he is irresistible to everyone. Everyone." at <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/merlinarthurfqf">merlinarthurfqf</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Attraxion

**Author's Note:**

> Fear my bizarre first foray into Merlin-ness. And thank Eltea for betaing, introducing, encouraging, and generally being the only reason I get anything done.

Chin on hand, attention waning, Merlin considered the next page of this particularly useless specimen of magic book. None of the spells he'd tested in a mumble had had any effect at all, and he was beginning to wonder why he was wasting his time reading this stupid thing.

Other than the whole knowledge-is-power-power-may-stave-off-grisly-death detail, that was.  
He smiled absently at the spell on the latest page, which promised to foster a "warme and genuine attraxion in its objecte." Dubious typography aside, it sounded amusingly harmless.

And really, it wouldn't kill Arthur to have to take a second glance at someone _other_ than his reflection in the mirror.

In fact, it might do Arthur a _world_ of good to have to cope with an "attraxion" to someone inconspicuous and insignificant—someone he would normally take for granted.

Someone like… Merlin.

Who had no ulterior motives whatsoever.

Merlin hopped up from his chair, crept to the door, and peeked through the crack to ensure that Gaius was still intent upon the latest of his strange concoctions. That done, he scuttled back to the book to memorize the incantation.

What harm could it do?

Unsurprisingly, Merlin's curiosity got the better of him the next morning when he brought breakfast in to Arthur. A glance over his shoulder confirmed that the prince was engrossed in the selection of his next spoonful, so Merlin bent over today's clean tunic and muttered the proper words in Arthur's general direction.

When he looked up eagerly, nothing had changed.

When he blinked, nothing had changed eith…

Something had changed.

Arthur was still giving him the Oh-It's-You-Again look. The room was still a little too cold, and the light streaming in through the windows was still a little too bright.

Arthur, however, was suddenly even more achingly beautiful than he had been before.

Oh, dear.

Merlin really ought to have seen this coming.

Arthur frowned resplendently. "What's wrong?" he asked.

The problem, of course, was that everything was horribly _right_, Arthur himself most of all, but Merlin didn't imagine that explaining as much would go over very well. Arthur had inherited his father's belligerent skepticism.

Whence he had acquired the dashing good looks remained a bit murkier a mystery, but Merlin wanted to shake the responsible party's dashing-good-looking hand.

As it was, he settled with a none-too-convincing "Oh—nothing—" and hastily busied himself collecting Arthur's things.

Arming the prince was no easier when the prince in question practically glowed. Accordingly, to Merlin's dismay, hiding a rather flushed face and negotiating a pair of hands itching for less-appropriate contact made their owner even clumsier than was usually the case.

"What are you planning today?" he managed, striving for normalcy as he fumbled, hot-faced and leaden-fingered, with Arthur's belt buckle. "Anything you'll be needing me for?"

"Just drilling, I believe," Arthur answered unconcernedly, apparently oblivious to the fact that Merlin's mutinous hands had "accidentally" brushed themselves across his chest at least three times as much as usual. "One of those days. Morgana said she wanted to talk to me—some sort of cataclysmic 'bad feeling' again. Honestly, I don't know what they've been feeding that girl…"

Merlin wasn't really hearing a word of this and didn't care. Running his palms over Arthur's shoulder, down his arms, about his waist—ostensibly to smooth the mail—was occupation enough, and his brain couldn't fit any words in amongst the pyrotechnic pleasure firing from within him.

"…Merlin?" Arthur repeated, slightly perturbed now.

Oh, dear.

Hastily Merlin retracted his hands.

"I think you're all ready," he offered brightly.

Arthur gave him a portentous Look, but when Merlin simply beamed, he shrugged and proceeded to the door, scabbard swinging at his hip.

Merlin was well-aware that he should let the paradigm prince depart unhindered and unobserved—primarily for the sake of his own sanity, but also for Arthur's convenience. The less a star-struck Merlin followed his idol like a lovelorn puppy, the better for both of them.

Fortunately and unfortunately, Arthur was much too pretty for Merlin to ignore him now.

Oh, _dear_.

Thus it was that, the stupidity of the situation redoubling by the second, Merlin trailed Arthur down the halls and out into the blinding sunlight.

Not that even an overzealous sun was as stunning as Arthur today.

When Arthur reached the cluster of waiting knights, something unexpected occurred: all of them began staring intently at him, too.

One of them actually started drooling.

Oh, _dear_, _dear_, _dear_.

Arthur looked uncertainly at Cadrogan, who wiped quickly at the saliva dribbling down his chin, and then cast an even more bewildered glance at Dariel, who had a newfound spring in his step and spark in his eye as he came forward to greet the prince.

Merlin wanted to be jealous, but he was a bit too busy being enchanted.

Literally.

Oh, dear.

He ought to go right back to that book and scour it for a reversal.

Regrettably, he was quite preoccupied with ogling Arthur as every knight in the company attempted to flirt with him, a process which Arthur mostly spent looking extraordinarily awkward.

_Beautifully_ extraordinarily awkward, of course.

Merlin wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed in idle milling and Arthur-admiration before the nearest door slammed open. Bemusedly everyone noted the arrival of an extremely angry Uther Pendragon, on whose temple a prominent vein was bulging.

"Would _someone_ like to tell me what the _hell_ is going on?" he demanded, glaring at each knight in turn. "Can _anyone_ explain why I was pulled away from property legislation to hear that my guards are standing around the courtyard, and something about a crown jewel—" Uther's glare reached Arthur.

He started.

He stared.

He blinked.

He smiled, slowly, warmly, and sweetly.

Oh, _shit_.

Merlin grabbed Arthur's arm—which was firm and shapely, which he imagined snaking about his bare wai… _no_—and dragged the prince back into the castle, shouting a semi-coherent excuse over his shoulder.

"Merlin, what in the name of _God_ is going on?" Arthur wanted to know.

"Something in the water?" Merlin hazarded weakly.

Gaius raised his snowy head as the door banged open.

"Don't look!" Merlin howled.

Bless Gaius's understanding heart; he ducked without so much as a "What did you do this time."

Merlin pushed Arthur into the closet and shut the door in his radiant face.

"Stay in there for five minutes," Merlin told him.

"Ex_cuse_ me?" Arthur sputtered. "Is the _water_ making you think I'm a _broom_, Merlin?"

"Just for five minutes," Merlin insisted. "It's safer for you there. And if you want to sweep something, feel free."

A quickly-uttered spell sealed the door and locked it, and Merlin, ushered to the task by Arthur's infuriated pounding against the door, scampered to his room for the book.

As he toted it back out and started flipping madly through, he received ten uninterrupted seconds of full-blast Gaius Eyebrow for his pains.

"Explain?" Gaius suggested.

"I think I read wrong," Merlin responded, shoving brittle pages out of the way.

Gaius sighed feelingly, sounding disappointingly unsurprised.

"Found it!" Merlin cried, running a finger down the lines of the appropriate page. "Counter… counter… counter… _nothing_?"

"Make it up," Gaius hissed, glancing first towards the yelling closet and then towards the main door, which was fielding a series of interested knocks.

"We're very busy!" Gaius called towards the latter. "Come back another time!"

Merlin dropped the useless book into a cauldron that he was pretty sure had been empty the last time he'd checked, sidled up to the closet door, and commenced recombining phrases in a desperate whisper.

Arthur banged on the door, which trembled like Merlin wanted to do. "What are you muttering about? This isn't _funny_, Merlin!"

Gaius's muted snickering begged to differ, but Merlin didn't think it was a good time to mention that part.

Then something that slipped from between his lips sounded profoundly _right_—a shudder rippled through him, warm like sun-dappled river water.

He took a deep breath, rescinded the spells on the closet door, cautiously eased it open, and peeked.

Arthur was still staggeringly lovely.

The crucial _however_ was that Merlin's urge to throw him on the floor and rip his clothes off had diminished considerably.

The status quo, it seemed, had been restored.

Except that Arthur was looking at him… a little strangely…

"Are you all right?" Merlin asked, tentative now.

"Your cheekbones," Arthur murmured, raising one gently-calloused hand to Merlin's face.

"My—?" Merlin had just enough time to squeak before Arthur shoved him against the wall and kissed him fiercely.

Gaius sighed again. "Where exactly did you throw that book?"


End file.
